A Night Out
by fourteen-teacups
Summary: Modern AU retelling of the Turnadette story, centered around a 'prop' I just couldn't let go.
1. Chapter 1

**A Night Out**

 _This is a modern AU retelling of the Turnadette story, in four parts, centered around a "prop" that I just couldn't let go. (The "prop" does not appear until chapter three, however.) Many thanks go to ginchy-amanda and my-little-yellowbird for their encouragement, patience and valuable feedback._

Chapter 1

Shelagh Mannion sat in the late summer sunshine in the square outside St Cuthbert's Hospital. She enjoyed spending her afternoon breaks out here in the fresh air and solitude. Arriving here as a midwife six months ago, she was still struggling to settle in. Although she had quickly found her professional feet on the obstetrics ward, things had not come as easily socially with the other staff on that floor. The senior midwives, Ward Sisters Julienne and Evangelina, had been there almost their entire careers, and although Shelagh was quite experienced in her field she still felt they viewed her as one of the junior nurses. Sister Julienne was kind and an excellent midwife and while she often seemed to behave almost motherly towards her, Shelagh knew there was already much expected of the head nurse and she wouldn't have time to spare to help the new Scottish girl adjust. The other Sister, Evangelina, was fiercely capable and a force to be reckoned with yet she tempered this with a surprising tenderness for the laboring mothers when the need arose. Shelagh sensed there was much she could learn from this woman professionally, but personally she scared her to death.

The young, student nurses were stylish and witty and exuberant; next to them Shelagh assumed that her shy and somewhat foreign personality was highlighted. She held a higher position than they, essentially in between the veteran and the apprentice staff nurses. The fact that she was responsible for some of their training probably didn't help her case; they most likely saw her as a advisor rather than a friend. At times she watched daring Trixie, sophisticated Jenny and sweet Cynthia as they as they left the hospital in a flurry, in pursuit of the excitement of a London evening. Left behind in their wake, she realised she didn't necessarily fit it with that group either.

There were a few doctors on the ward; the main one seemed to practically live there, he covered so many shifts for the other two. Apparently he was a widower and didn't mind substituting for his coworkers who had to get home to their wives. Early on she had developed a professional respect for him; Dr Turner was an extremely competent obstetrician, had a good rapport with patients and held the midwives in refreshingly high esteem. He even displayed good humour and an astonishing restraint alongside Sister Evangelina; Shelagh couldn't help but be impressed by that.

Dr Turner also had a little boy, Timothy, who spent a lot of time at the hospital after school and during term holidays. When Timothy wasn't doing his homework in his father's office he ran around with his friend Jack. The two boys spent their free time playing in the square, trying to take control of the waiting area's television or charming snacks from the cafeteria ladies. Shelagh had developed a soft spot for this boy, part mischievous imp and another part wise soul. She knew his unusual combination of traits were a result of losing his mother at so young an age combined with his father's busy schedule, which left him alone to raise himself at times. She understood him because in some ways she had been him, knowing the early loss of a parent and the necessary development of independence that came with such circumstances. As she folded up the remains of her packed lunch she smiled as she also thought of their differences; she had been a shy, reserved child while Timothy was full of spunk. Looking up she was just in time to see him running up to her now.

"Nurse Mannion!" he shouted. "I've caught a caterpillar!" Timothy charged up to her bench with the bug in question cupped in his hands.

"That's wonderful!" she exclaimed.

His excitement continued, "I'm going to identify it and make sure I feed it the right leaves. If it's going to become a moth it will make a cocoon, but butterflies come from a criss-a…" he scrunched up his face, trying to remember the word.

"Chrysalis," she informed him.

"Yes! That's it! Akela said I could earn my Nature badge if everything goes well for this little chap." He settled himself next to her on the garden seat.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll earn your badge, Timothy! Now have you decided where you're going to keep him?"

"Dad has loads of junk around the flat, I'm sure I can find an old jar or something and make holes in the lid with a nail."

"Oh dear," she could well picture their cluttered flat, having observed Dr Turner's office, "for the time being, what if you used a zip-lock bag from my lunchbox? You can poke a few small holes in it for air." She rummaged through her bag until she found one that wasn't too soiled.

His eyes widened with delight. "That would be smashing! Thanks!"

xxxxxxxxxx

Dr Patrick Turner crossed from the hospital to the square in search of his son. As he passed through the small gate he could see Timothy was sitting with Nurse Mannion on the bench closest to the fountain. They were too involved in what looked like a serious task to notice his approach. Pausing, he took a moment to enjoy the enthusiastic mood his boy was clearly displaying. Timothy was talking animatedly and gesturing wildly while the nurse gave him her undivided attention...and his son was eating it up. Choosing to sidestep the guilt this usually brought up, he instead focused on what a gift it was for Timothy. Many of the hospital staff made an effort to keep an eye on his lad, but Nurse Mannion seemed to have forged a connection with him that was more personal and it was a bond that Tim desperately needed. As his father, he was grateful. He should probably thank her, Patrick reflected, but he wasn't on particularly familiar terms with her. Yes, they worked together quite frequently, and on those occasions she displayed excellent nursing and midwifery skills, but other than that she was quiet and kept to herself. Nevertheless, he reminded himself as he moved toward their bench, that would be the gentlemanly thing to do.

Timothy saw him first, "Dad!" he hollered, brandishing the baggie, "It's a caterpillar! I can work on my Nature badge for Cubs!" As Tim jumped up, a breeze caught the rest of the rubbish from Shelagh's lunch, blowing it towards the fountain. Patrick was quick to follow it and swipe it up before it could get much further. He dropped it in a nearby bin on his way back to their seat.

"Greetings, Doctor, and thank you," Shelagh said quietly, ducking her head as she addressed him.

"It's me who should be thanking you, Nurse. You've become a good friend to Timothy, here." He noticed her blush a bit as she shook her head and he remembered too late that she had never been one to receive compliments well. He refocused his attention on Timothy, "Let's see your newest pet, then!"

" _Da-ad_ , it's not a pet, it's a science experiment and a Cubs project! And the first thing I've got to do is properly identify it so I know what it eats." He held up his index finger to emphasize his point.

Patrick tilted his head as he responded, "Right then, let's head to my office and you can use my computer for your research."

"Brilliant!" Tim headed off towards the gate at a trot, calling over his shoulder, "Bye, Nurse Mannion!"

"Good-bye, Timothy!" she replied with a wave.

Patrick smiled his thanks to her this time before shifting into professionalism, "I'll see you back on the ward when your break is over. I'd quite like your help explaining the risks of preeclampsia to Mrs Shepherd; oh, and Mrs Davis needs some assistance with breastfeeding, perhaps one of the younger nurses could...?"

"Of course, Doctor; I'll be there in two ticks. And Nurse Miller has just the right amount of patience to deal with Mrs Davis." Shelagh answered, feeling much more comfortable as the conversation turned to hospital matters.

He nodded his approval, as well as his farewell, then joined Timothy at the edge of the square, ruffling his son's hair before helping him and his caterpillar across the street.

xxxxxxxxxx

Trixie entered the hospital tearoom and found the corner table by the window knowing that Cynthia and Jenny would soon be joining her. As she waited she looked out onto the square and as usual could see Nurse Mannion on her favorite bench.

Her two colleagues approached with three teas and a packet of biscuits and as they sat down she sighed her frustration, "I simply don't know _why_ Shelagh insists on spending her breaks out there _alone_ every day, when I've invited her to take tea with us dozens of times!"

"Sometimes a bit of peace is necessary, especially when our work involves so much interaction with others," Cynthia offered wisely.

"And you're saying she can't have peace with us?" Trixie chirped, clearly not understanding such needs. She reached for her tea and swirled the cup, helping it to steep.

"It is disappointing," added Jenny, "I rather like to get to know the people I'm working with, it makes my shifts pass more quickly," she joked, "but more importantly I think friendship strengthens working relationships."

"Well then we'll just have to keep trying," Cynthia soothed as she opened the packet of treats, "but we must let her move at her own pace."

"You're right, of course," Trixie conceded, but not without an affectionate eye-roll in Cynthia's direction, "without you we'd be social barbarians!"

"Oh look," Jenny interjected, "Dr Turner's son has just joined her." She helped herself to a biscuit and offered the tray to her friends.

"They've developed quite the friendship," Trixie noted with a sing-song tone in her voice.

"What are you implying?" Jenny raised her eyebrows in question.

Cynthia sipped her tea before adding quietly, "I think it's sweet."

"Well I think she's sweet on the doctor…" Trixie teased, punctuating her comment with her biscuit, the suggestion in her expression obvious.

"No!" exclaimed Cynthia.

"Oh yes!" Trixie countered, "Haven't you seen the dreamy look in her eye when he's in the room? And she blushes whenever he compliments her."

"She blushes when _anyone_ compliments her," Jenny reminded as she took another biscuit.

"Fine." Trixie relented, sweeping some stray crumbs into her napkin. "But did you know she helps him catch up on his paperwork and tidies his desk when he isn't looking?"

"And has a special interest in his little boy…" Jenny was starting to be won over.

Cynthia remained the voice of reason, "Lots of people here look out for Timothy."

"Look! Dr Turner just entered the square!" Jenny squealed and three heads snapped back to the window, their repast forgotten for the moment.

"What's he doing? Oh, picking up some litter." Cynthia noted.

"Aha!" Trixie crowed.

"What? What is it?" Her friends were at a loss.

"Her eyes were on his _derriere_ the entire time he was retrieving that rubbish!" she triumphed.

"She wouldn't!" Cynthia was aghast while Jenny nearly choked on her tea.

"Trust me; I have excellent vision and I most certainly know what a girl's face looks like when she's admiring her man." Trixie delivered her news with authority and plenty of cheek.

And with that the three nurses dissolved completely into giggles, drawing questioning glances from the rest of the tearoom.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _Chapter 2 sheds some light on the meaning behind the title. Many thanks to my trusty betas: Ginchy and Birdy._

Shelagh covertly let her eyes follow Timothy and Dr Turner as they left the square and until they were out of sight. She then looked back to the fountain and the late roses that bloomed next to it. Her palms felt a little clammy as they usually did after most social interaction. Not for the first time, she wished she were more comfortable in conversation with her peers. That was one of the reasons she so enjoyed her time with Timothy, their talks flowed naturally and, in her experience, children were much less stressful to be around. She never found herself worrying that she was intruding or wasting his time.

Checking her watch she saw that she had about fifteen minutes before she needed to be back on the ward. Smiling at the memory of Timothy and his joy over his new project, she was grateful for the friendship they had developed, as much for her sake as his. She felt less lonely because of it and he gave her a sense of purpose here apart from her work. Helping others was a reward unto itself, whether it be a patient or a friend, and Shelagh felt the familiar warmth that such service offered. But, she contemplated, if she were honest with herself, Timothy wasn't the only reason she felt such a glow this afternoon. Dr Turner's presence had begun to have a bit of an effect on her and today was no exception. When he had come to the square for Timothy he looked rushed off his feet as usual, but instead of their hospital uniform of scrubs, he was dressed in his street clothes having just come from a meeting with the medical board. Closing her eyes, she recalled that he had looked quite handsome wearing gray trousers and a blue button down shirt. Then the breeze had blown his fringe over his forehead in a way that she had recently decided was very attractive. As he quizzed Timothy about his nature project he had leaned back on his heels with his hands in his pockets looking wonderfully relaxed and the view she had been treated to as he retrieved the litter from her lunch made her blush as she indulged herself with the memory of it. Shelagh opened her eyes and cleared her throat, she really needed to get a handle on her thoughts; they were unprofessional and certainly wouldn't lead anywhere. Dr Turner was a busy doctor with a full time job as well as parenting duties; he didn't have time or interest for the likes of her she reminded herself. No one ever had before and this was surely no different. Back at home in Aberdeen, she hadn't had any suitors. Young men were always falling over her cousin, who was fashionable like Nurse Lee, or her school friends, who were confidently flirtatious like Nurse Franklin, but never keen on her. Sighing, she picked up her things and headed towards the glass entrance doors of the hospital, intending on a quick trip to the loo before starting back to her shift.

Instead, walking through the front hall, she heard her name being called as she passed the tearoom. Turning, she saw the three young nurses at a corner table waving and calling out to her. Stifling her irritation, Shelagh crossed the room to where they sat. "Good afternoon, Nurses Franklin, Lee and Miller," she greeted them, nodding at each in turn.

"Good afternoon, Nurse Mannion," Cynthia began as she offered Shelagh their last biscuit, "come and sit with us for a moment." Not knowing how to refuse, Shelagh took the pastry and sat down politely.

"Nurse Miller, when you go back on duty, would you help Mrs Davis with her next attempt at breastfeeding? She's still struggling to master the task." Shelagh decided she might as well use this time wisely, even as she began to wonder why this was her typical pattern.

"For goodness sake, you can call us by our Christian names when we're on break!" Trixie asserted, looking entirely unashamed by her outburst while Cynthia and Jenny glanced away in embarrassment.

"That seems a bit too familiar," Shelagh stammered, trying to regain her comfort zone.

"Not really," Trixie reasoned, "we're four young women united in the care of new mothers and we may discover that we have even more in common if we got to know each other better." She directed her gaze at Shelagh who had trouble meeting her eyes. "In fact Jenny was just saying that friendship among co-workers makes a more effective team," Trixie continued, ignoring a withering look from Jenny.

"Hmmm," Shelagh conveniently chewed on her biscuit but realised the distance her lack of response may have created.

Jenny, attempting to salvage the awkward situation, directed a question at Shelagh, "Do you have plans for your day off?"

"Just some reading," Shelagh answered more openly, "and I'll see if they need any help at the church."

Trixie coughed subtly, then interjected, "You know, the Ward Sister on Men's Surgical is the most terrific fun! Not only is she much younger than our sisters, but she organises the most entertaining evenings' out for her ward staff!"

"Trixie, could you get her to share some of her ideas with our ward?" Jenny wondered excitedly.

"I'm sure I could," Trixie beamed, "and we can plan one of our own! I'll choose the one that sounds the best and advertise our night out with posters in the Obstetric nurses' station."

"If we plan it for a week from Friday, I know all four of us will have the evening off," Cynthia offered boldly, raising her eyebrows in Shelagh's direction. "Do say you'll promise to join us?"

Shelagh considered for moment. Her instinctive reaction was to say no, but she could sense that Cynthia's request was genuine. During her brief time in the tea room this afternoon the effort these women had made on her behalf had not gone unnoticed. Aware of how difficult it would be to say no after such hospitality, she nodded her agreement, but also gave herself the option to decline later if she changed her mind.

In response to her nod the nurses expressed their enthusiasm with radiant smiles and at least one small squeal. Blushing, Shelagh stood to return to work, reminding them that their break was also coming to an end.

"Goodbye, Shelagh!" Jenny dared.

Shelagh froze for a moment, then slowly looked to the nurse. "Goodbye…" she paused, "Jenny...and thank you for the invitation...Cynthia and Trixie." Turning, she left the tearoom at a brisk pace.

As she entered the stairwell she blew out a breath. Had it really been that painful to break the barrier of professionalism? She had to admit that it hadn't been. And if what Jenny had said was true and this would help them build a better clinical team, then she certainly could not find a reason to argue the point. Truthfully, she acknowledged to herself that this wasn't the first time these three had tried to draw her into a friendship since her arrival at St Cuthbert's. Looking at it like that, as a whole, she could see that their interest in a connection was actually genuine. And she had suddenly become aware, during their conversation today, of what she had obviously been ignoring for some time: her habit of redirecting things when they got too personal. She wasn't quite sure what to do about that but as a first step she promised herself to make an attempt and go through with their planned outing.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Later that evening, back at their flat, Patrick sat in his favorite chair attempting to unwind from another busy day while Timothy continued work on his most recent Lego set, a model of Hogwart's Castle. They had left the hospital at a reasonable hour for once, making a detour first to the park where the caterpillar had been found and, unsurprisingly, the leaves in which it should be eating, and then on to the chip shop for their all too frequent stand-in for a healthy dinner.

Patrick kept an eye on the telly, trying to focus on the cricket match he was watching and at the same time listen to Timothy chattering about his day. His boy was still going on about his time in the square with Nurse Mannion, "She's really interested in science, Dad, but she says she likes Biology best." _Well that makes sense, seeing as she's a nurse._ Patrick hid a grin, enjoying Timothy's innocence and enthusiasm as he listed her favorite animals, then turned his attention back to the match as his son continued, "she grew up in Aberdeen, that's in Scotland, and she still misses it; sometimes when she's homesick she'll go and sit by the river." From there Tim moved on to the football he'd played at lunchtime followed by a conversation with himself as he worked through a particularly tricky part of the Lego instructions.

Patrick's mind began to wander, following the thought that had surfaced as a result of Timothy's monologue: the lad was searching for a mother figure. Not that anyone could replace Marianne, for either of them, but Patrick couldn't deny that he was limited in his role as a father and his son would benefit greatly from some motherly attention. He shook his head, it was a mystery as to how to accomplish that, he couldn't very well just marry someone so Tim could have a mother. His thoughts turned more personal and, for the first time in the almost two years since Marianne had died, he found himself thinking that maybe he was ready to open his life to someone special as well. It hurt to come to that realisation, even though he was merely admitting it in his mind. There were so many layers of his life with Marianne, and each time he let go of another one there was pain even as it was a step towards his healing. He consoled himself with the thought that this was only the flicker of an idea which he was in no way prepared to act upon. For one thing, he wouldn't even know where to begin; for another, he was a tired, middle-aged father, too busy and worn out to have the time to notice anyone, let alone be noticed in return.

Refocusing his attention on his boy, he stood up from his chair to lend Timothy a hand with his sitting room floor Lego project, his old knees creaking as he did so. He grimaced at his body's apparent agreement with his recent assessment of himself. "One last section and then it's bath time for you," he reminded his son. They worked together, sharing a few more anecdotes from their day while building Dumbledore's office, then tidied the bricks into a safe corner of the room.

"'Night, Dad!" Timothy grinned as he turned to leave.

"Good night, son," Patrick called, returning his smile. They were doing well, just the two of them, he reminded himself. As nice as it had been, and he supposed could be again, things were ticking along in their current situation. He checked the time, then decided he would watch the last half hour of the match before looking over his patient notes in preparation for tomorrow. Perhaps when things settled down a bit he would revisit the idea of moving on.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 _As promised, the 'prop' that started it all can be found in this chapter. I had a lot of fun writing this section and am very grateful to Ginchy and Birdy for their extremely constructive feedback!_

The next week and a half passed in no time at all with the staff run off their feet due to a record number of deliveries. Still, Trixie had managed to make good on her promise and the notices for the ward staff were on display rather quickly, informing those who were interested of an exciting evening at a local club which featured karaoke. Shelagh had, in fact, heard of karaoke, even though it was the last thing she would have ever chosen to participate in. Remembering her promise to herself, she reasoned that she could still go along but would manage to linger on the periphery. A handful of the younger members of the medical team had enthusiastically committed to attend; this included several of the other young nurses and a few orderlies plus their respective partners.

When the night arrived, although some had planned to meet at the club, Shelagh and the other nurses just getting off of their shifts intended to ready themselves in the staff changing room then leave straight from the hospital. The time spent preparing, with the addition of giggles while helping each other with attire and primping, served to ease her nerves a bit, and gave her the opportunity to become more comfortable with her colleagues. By the time the group left the hospital in a rush of excitement, she began to feel a thrill at the prospect of finally being part of what in the past she had only been a witness to.

Once at the club, her nerves were back in full force and she wondered why she had agreed to this in the first place. Sensing her discomfort, Jenny and Trixie made sure that she and Cynthia had proper drinks, a half pint of cider and a Pimm's cocktail respectively, and found the four of them an out of the way table that was still near their co-workers. Cynthia helped soothe her anxiety by steering the conversation towards a safe topic, the upcoming hospital benefit. Shelagh's church held the annual fete and she soon felt at ease discussing the plans and preparations. After offering to assist with the cakes stand and tombola, the young nurses quickly turned to considering which interesting young men could be expected to be in attendance.

"Will the new curate be there?" Trixie wanted to know, eyebrows raised over the rim of her glass. Shelagh was sure he would be.

"Or the chap in the dispensary?" Cynthia asked shyly. Jenny, kind enough to let that go, was more concerned about the junior doctors from the Children's Ward.

Trixie spoke up innocently, but with a mischievous glint in her eye, "What about our own doctors?"

"What about them?" Jenny retorted, passing her drink from one hand to the other, "they're all married!"

"Not all of them…" she teased. Shelagh colored slightly and looked away.

"Trixie…" Cynthia warned, and the matter was dropped in favor of a toast to the first successful Obstetric Ward's Night Out.

Half-way through her cider, Shelagh found she was pleasantly relaxed and enjoying her time with the girls, even as she knew that the alcohol was partly the reason behind this. As much as she liked feeling less uncomfortable around them, she reminded herself that relying on any outside source for confidence was very risky, and she would not make a habit of it. She was brought out of her reverie when Trixie jumped up from the table and, just as quickly, returned brandishing a packet of paper.

"These are our choices!" she announced, dropping a stack of what appeared to be lists in the midst of their glasses.

Shelagh was confused, "Choices?"

"For the song we're going to sing," Jenny enlightened her while reorganizing their drinks to make room for the sheets of paper.

"Oh, I wasn't intending to sing," Shelagh informed her, noting that Cynthia didn't look too keen either.

"Well, of course we're going to sing something," Trixie enthused, "that's what made this idea stand out and it's the reason I chose it!" She spread out the lists in front of them, running her finger down the rows of words.

"And we'll be singing as a foursome," Jenny reassured, "so there's no need for anyone to be nervous." Her pointed look included both Cynthia and Shelagh.

The two in question shared a helpless glance, even as Shelagh became aware that this idea sounded much less intimidating than it had a week ago. Again, she credited this to her mild intoxication, unless perhaps this was a delightful consequence of being 'one of the girls.' She hid a secret smile at the thought.

Trixie was calling out options, "We can do something from a musical, Shrek's always fun...or go with a classic, they have loads from The Beatles."

"How about something more recent, there's Maroon 5," Jenny suggested, leaning over to see the choices, "or Caro Emerald."

"Oh, I like her!" Shelagh interjected, surprising even herself with her response.

Trixie raised her eyebrows as she passed her the song list, "Do tell, then! Which do you fancy singing?"

"Let's see," she murmured while perusing the list, " _Tangled Up_ is a fun one, or they have _That Man_..."

Trixie and Jenny shared a smirk as they reached for their drinks.

"Oh, this one's very catchy, do you know _Dr Wanna Do_?" Shelagh asked, but was startled by Jenny's giggles and Trixie choking on her cocktail. Cynthia was out of her seat in a heartbeat, making sure her friend was alright.

"I'm fine," Trixie reassured, "but thank you. Now Shelagh, that is precisely the song we should sing tonight!" she twinkled, shooting a meaningful look at the two other girls.

"Absolutely it is!" Jenny grinned in agreement. Then added, in response to the perplexion on Shelagh's face, "isn't it?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," she answered primly.

"I should think more than one nurse has had a crush on a doctor," Jenny explained, a little defensively.

"You did just admit that you have your cap set for the pediatric specialists," giggled Cynthia, giving her Pimm's a stir.

"True," Jenny accepted, "but I wondered if maybe it wasn't just me..."

Shelagh pursed her lips, then added quietly, "I'm not sure this conversation is entirely appropriate."

Trixie, attempting to turn things around before they lost all the ground they had made with Shelagh, came to the rescue, "The main thing is, we're nurses; we should most certainly be singing about doctors!" The tension broke, and laughter encircled the table.

Shelagh relaxed again, "Then we're all in agreement." She turned to Cynthia and mistakenly interpreting her uncomfortable expression as nervousness, began to uncharacteristically be the one to offer reassurance about their upcoming performance.

Twenty minutes later, the little group made their way onto the stage. The introductory music began to play and Shelagh was caught up in the rhythm and instrumentals, happy they had decided on this lively number. Before she knew it, it was time to sing; they started out a little wobbly with all four of them giggling and muddling the words and she looked to the others for confidence as she tried to pretend the audience wasn't there.

" _I just made an appointment_

 _For a special rendezvous_

 _To see a man of miracles_

 _And all that he can do._

 _I checked in at reception_

 _Put my hat onto my lap_

 _And when he walked in dressed in white_

 _I had a heart attack."_

As they reached the end of the first verse, it was obvious to all that Shelagh was an excellent singer. The three other nurses eyed each other in surprise but stepped back, effectively taking the role of backup singers while non-verbally offering Shelagh the lead.

 _"My eyes went ooh_

 _My voice just cooed_

 _My mind let loose_

 _I'll stay forever, it's up to you."_

As the song continued, Shelagh rose to the challenge, truly enjoying the opportunity, her voice bright and clear.

 _"Doctor I want you_

 _Ooh, my Doctor Wanna Do_

 _I can't get over you_

 _Dr do anything that ya Wanna Do."_

xxxxxxxxxxx

Patrick's shift ended late in the evening as he added the files from the day to the growing stack on the corner of his desk, realising he had reached his limit for the night. He promised himself he would get to them first thing next morning. Walking out of the ward, he sighed, knowing he just had an empty flat to look forward to due to Tim's last minute invitation to spend the night at Jack's. He waved a quiet goodbye to the women in the nurses' station, and as he did so he caught sight of the staff night advertisements. Although he had originally declined to attend, he now thought he might just stop by, seeing as he had nothing else of worth in line for the evening. Doubling back he found some only briefly worn street clothes in his locker, which he deemed appropriate enough for the occasion, then chose to walk to the club, allowing the mild weather to clear his head as he transitioned from another taxing workday to a rather unexpected pause for leisure.

Walking into the establishment he headed for the bar and put in his order for a pint. He could hear a giggling group of female voices starting their karaoke number, the tune was catchy but they stumbled over the beginning lyrics. He shared a few words with the barman as the giggling subsided and a single, stronger voice took the lead in the melody, while the others faded back. As he paid for his drink he chuckled, realising ironically that their cheeky song was about a doctor.

Taking a first sip of his drink, he turned to the makeshift stage and leant against the bar, then swallowed hard as he realised that several of the nurses from Obstetrics were the performers. Nurse Mannion it seemed was the one with the stellar voice; standing somewhat in front of Nurses Franklin, Miller and Lee, she was handling the song with a confidence he had seen from her only in professional situations. _Had he ever seen her dressed in something other than scrubs?_ Gazing at her now, in close fitted black trousers and a slightly looser fitting blouse, he was absolutely sure he had not. Her petite figure was normally obscured by the baggy uniform the nurses wore, but here her stature and her appealing curves were clearly evident. The flushed complexion, which his diagnostic eye attributed to a combination of nerves, alcohol and performance energy, enhanced her features with a captivating glow. He had to make a conscious effort to close his mouth, then ran his hand over the hair at the back of his neck while at the same time sparing a sidelong glance to see if anyone had noticed his admiring stare. Immediately, his eyes were drawn back to the platform.

" _I sat down and I waited_

 _Til I heard my name get called_

 _It's like I'm at the races_

 _And I think I won them all._

 _He asked me to step forward_

 _First I caught my breath, and ran_

 _For endless observation_

 _In the hands of Superman."_

She really was an accomplished singer, he observed, and the way she moved as she delivered the lyrics was...well, the word that came directly to mind was _sexy_. He had occasionally registered her beauty, but had not given much more thought to it out of practicality, he assumed. But now as he watched her he couldn't help but notice it in the subtlety of her pouting lips, the way her hips moved ever so slightly as she swayed to the music, her gestures as she acted out the meaning behind the words; she was mesmerizing. Exhibited by another woman, these actions would hardly have registered but, given her usual restraint, her understated movements were not only clear but completely beguiling. He cleared his throat and set down his forgotten pint, continuing to enjoy her performance. Every so often she raised her arm and pointed to emphasize a line, not at anyone in particular, just off to the side or an empty corner. She was not aware of his presence, none of his colleagues were, but in that moment he knew that if she pointed at him he would be hard pressed not to act upon it.

" _My eyes went ooh_

 _My voice just cooed_

 _My mind let loose_

 _I'll stay forever, it's up to you._

 _Doctor I want you_

 _Ooh, my Doctor Wanna Do_

 _I can't get over you_

 _Dr do anything that ya Wanna Do."_

His physical reaction when she sang that last line was as surprising to him as it was powerful. Again he glanced around him as he shifted his stance in an effort to conceal his body's response. He carded a hand through his fringe, then ran his finger around his collar in an effort to loosen it. _When had it gotten so warm in here?_ His dress shirt felt slightly damp and looking down he noticed it was a bit crumpled as well. Sustaining himself with a large gulp from his pint he briefly wondered if he ought to leave, but she was still singing and he was effectively entranced.

" _Come over here and give me some medicine_

 _Move a little closer so my head can spin_

 _A little bit of potion makes my fever go_

 _Get it outta me like a volcano._

 _My eyes went ooh_

 _My voice just cooed_

 _My mind let loose_

 _Ooh, Dr Love..._

 _Doctor I want you_

 _Ooh, my Doctor Wanna Do_

 _I can't get over you_

 _Dr do anything that ya Wanna Do."_

He watched as their number ended to appreciative applause plus a bit more enthusiasm coming from the St Cuthbert's staff seated off to one side. The four nurses, giggling with what looked to be relief as much as triumph, met in a group hug before bouncing back to their seats. He remained where he was by the bar, stunned by what he had just witnessed not only on the stage but within himself. It was definitely time for him to leave before anyone from the hospital noticed he was there. He wasn't at all confident he could as yet form words into sentences. Leaving his unfinished drink he slipped outside, once again thankful for the cool night air and the brisk walk back to the car park, he needed the distraction of the empty streets as much as the time to think.

 _How had he never noticed her in this way before?_ She had been in his life as a co-worker for, what was it, six months? He hadn't really even viewed her as a friend; he saw her instead as an accomplished medical professional otherwise relegated to the background of his mind most likely due to her shyness and reservation. Yet, now that he thought about it, he had at times observed her remarkable tenderness with terrified patients and at others an uncanny wit that surprised him. And then there was her relationship with Timothy, if he had to describe it, it was almost beautiful. He stopped himself, his appreciation was getting too personal and there was no point in going there; _she was his colleague, what was wrong with him?_ She was a young woman, who surely had admirers her own age, and this bordered on indecent. He tried to file such thoughts away, but everything he had seen and felt tonight refused to be quieted. He would take one more lap around the hospital before finding his car, then drive home to the empty flat where he already knew no sleep would be waiting for him.

 _I was introduced to Dr Wanna Do (Caro Emerald) thanks to a Tumblr reblog from thatginchygal of a post by sincerelygeertje . The song is a must listen for Turnadette fans everywhere and was my inspiration for this fic!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 _Thank you to all who have supported this story (both on Tumblr and here)! I hope you enjoy the final chapter. I am forever grateful to Birdy and Ginchy for hanging in there with me and this fic and for helping me add some depth to it._

In the week that followed their night at the club, Trixie couldn't help but notice a few subtle changes in her colleagues. Shelagh, for one, was displaying a bit more social confidence around the nurses and this had already begun to have a positive effect on their skill as a midwifery team. During an especially complicated labor two days ago, the budding friendship between Shelagh and the three nurses resulted in the absolutely vital abilities not only to communicate non-verbally but also to offer the proper emotional support to both mother and fellow midwives. On the other hand, Shelagh was still the soul of professionalism around Dr Turner, much to Trixie's disappointment, although she had noticed her making a bit more effort to engage him in conversation. She would have to see if there was an additional something she could do to pave the way for those two; after all, she was nothing if not determined. And speaking of Dr Turner, he had been unusually distracted this week, forgetting to follow up on several inquiries and often appearing like he was lost in his own world with alternatively a mysterious half smile or a melancholy look in his eye. She couldn't fathom the reason for either, but she vowed to pay closer attention in the hope she might find out.

Trixie, Jenny and Cynthia were delighted when Shelagh began to alter her break time routine; still taking some of her time off on her own, she had joined the nurses for almost half of her free time this week. The foursome were slowly growing closer as Shelagh grew more comfortable, she was letting them in and sharing her own confidences. During some of their talks they even touched on various personal topics of their past and current lives.

Today, Trixie and Shelagh were the first to arrive in the hospital tearoom, saving a table for the rest of their group. Seeing as she had Shelagh on her own for a brief moment, Trixie decided to take the opportunity to work on her matchmaking plan.

"Has Dr Turner agreed to help with the fete?" she asked innocently.

Shelagh looked down at her lap, her cheeks turning a pale pink. "I'm sure he has more important things to do with his time," she hedged.

"Have you asked him?" Trixie wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily.

"I… I haven't had the chance to," Shelagh waffled.

"Is that so…" Trixie grinned, "not even one chance during any of those tete-a-tetes you've shared this week?"

Shelagh's blush was crimson this time. "Trixie…" she whispered, glancing nervously around her.

"You don't need to worry Shelagh, no one is paying any attention to little old us," she laughed.

"Well," Shelagh continued quietly, "it is true that I have found myself engaged in a few more...discussions with Doctor as of late; but I seem to be feeling more comfortable speaking to everyone on the ward since I've become friendly with you and the girls."

"That's wonderful! Most of the staff would love to get to know you better; you have a lot to offer as a friend." she stated earnestly. Then with a mischievous twinkle in her eye she added, "and he is quite handsome."

Shelagh looked back down at her lap but she couldn't completely hide the grin she was trying to suppress nor the sparkle in her own eyes. Instead she gave in to both and, with her gaze still downcast, nodded ever so slightly in reply.

Trixie, giddy on the wave of her sleuthing triumph, took pity on her and moved their chat toward a more benign topic.

When Cynthia and Jenny finally appeared, bearing tea and biscuits, Shelagh was sufficiently recovered. The younger nurses gossiped about the latest exploits on each of the more popular wards before Shelagh brought them back to matters concerning the rapidly approaching hospital benefit.

"You'll be happy to learn that our curate, Reverend Hereward, has agreed to serve as keeper for Beat the Goalie," Shelagh smiled, directing her comment at Trixie; clearly there was more than one romantic at the table. "We'll set that up, along with all of the other games, on the far side of the fountain," she added, gesturing to the square across the road.

Trixie's eyes lit up as she inquired, "Then may I please request that the tombola is within a good viewing distance?"

"You may," Shelagh replied primly and made note of it, but her dimples gave her away. "Now Timothy and the Cubs are going to handle the Pick a Lolly, but we could do with some young men at the Tug o' War and someone with good organizational skills at the Egg and Spoon Race."

Jenny volunteered to appeal to the Children's Ward for junior doctors who might be available for the Tug o' War, then offered to Cynthia, "If we stop by the dispensary together with a clipboard in hand, we can look official while innocently asking for Egg and Spoon volunteers." Cynthia blushed, but nodded her agreement.

"Wonderful!" Shelagh beamed, "now before our shift starts back up, do you think we could walk over to the square and plan out where we can fit the rest of the stalls?"

Consent was demonstrated with the scraping of chairs on lino and the gathering up of the remains of their tea. Three nurses headed towards the entrance but Trixie turned in the opposite direction, calling after them, "I'll meet you there in two ticks, I just need to fetch my jumper."

As Trixie ran back into the ward for her cardie, she could hear whistling, of all things, coming from Dr Turner's office. She slowed until she came to a spot where she could just see inside. He stood behind his desk, straightening files and swaying slightly to the rhythm of his tune - a tune she distinctly recognized.

Catching sight of her, he abruptly stopped whistling, "Nurse Franklin, is there something you require?"

"Oh no, just popping back for my jumper," she informed him brightly, stepping to the doorway; then because she couldn't let it pass without comment, "I wouldn't have taken you for a Caro Emerald fan."

"Sorry?"

"That song you were whistling, it's by Caro Emerald."

"Oh? Haven't heard of her, must have overheard it somewhere though," he continued to move files around his desk, appearing rather flustered.

"You know," she pressed the issue, "a few of us nurses sang that same number at the staff night out last Friday."

He fidgeted nervously, rubbing his thumb against his forefinger. "Staff night? Oh, right. You sang a song you say?"

Trixie hid a smile; he was a terrible liar. "We sang that very song. Myself along with Nurses Lee, Miller...and Mannion." She watched him suppress a twitch then swallow with apparent difficulty when she mentioned Shelagh's name. "In fact," she went on, "it was Nurse Mannion who chose that particular tune."

He started to speak, then cleared his throat before continuing nonchalantly, "Did she?"

Trixie turned and spoke over her shoulder as she left, "Indeed, it seems she has a soft spot for one of the doctors here." Moving back to her original place of concealment, Trixie watched as his face smoothed into a look of peaceful joy. It was short lived, however; in the next moment he sighed and shook his head, as if resigning himself to disbelief, then fell back into his chair and set himself to the task of endless paperwork.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Another Friday night arrived, marking two weeks since Patrick's clandestine visit to the club and what an agonizing fortnight it had been. He was exhausted by his attempts to hide from the staff that anything had changed, when in fact, for him, everything had. He knew what love was, had been in love before, and this was without a doubt the state he was in. It was definitely not just mere attraction, although that was what had finally brought her to his attention. And that bloody song, he couldn't get it out of his head, let alone the memory of her singing it. His one mistake had been allowing himself to be overheard by Nurse Franklin; but he had avoided her suspicion, he hoped.

His mind had been filled with Nurse Mannion these past handful of days and as a result every aspect of her person had been brought out into the light: her compassion and competent care for their patients, her calm and kind manner with both senior and junior nurses, the passion she displayed in her vocation of service and healing, the time she took for Timothy. Here, it seemed, was the answer to his thoughts and questions of just a few weeks ago. At the time he hadn't felt ready to seriously consider the possibility nor had he any idea of how to begin again. Yet here she was, and had been, as if waiting for him to reawaken. The bittersweetness of his predicament, however, did not escape him. Each day he looked forward to working with her, finding he enjoyed her humor and skill much more than ever before; yet he knew that was all he could have. Would it become easier to settle for only that small part of her as time went by? He supposed it would have to.

Now, as his evening shift drew to a close, Patrick glanced over at the small couch in his office where Timothy was half asleep, then looked up, surprised to see Nurse Mannion in the doorway. It was no small effort to make sure the butterflies in his stomach created by her appearance were not evident on his face. "May I help you, Nurse?"

"On the contrary, since we're both finishing up for the night I thought to stop by and see if _I_ could offer help," she said, then taking pity on his overflowing desk, "with the filing perhaps?"

"Thank you," he smiled, "that would be most appreciated." He wanted to say more, to prolong this encounter which was fortuitously between just the two of them, but Timothy, roused from his nap by their voices, sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"Hello, Timothy," she whispered, "sorry to wake you."

Normally cranky when awakened like this, his boy was surprisingly gracious in the presence of his favorite nurse, "I wasn't really asleep," he fibbed. Then, as if having used up his civility, turned his sleep-deprived rancor towards his dad, " _now_ can we go home?"

"Tim," Patrick warned, accompanied by a stern look.

"Timothy," Shelagh spoke up, and both men turned their attention to her, "I'm sure your father would like to go home as much as you would. Now if we all help with this filing, we'll be finished in no time at all."

Tim acquiesced and stepped towards the desk, accepting Shelagh's task of finding the files starting with whichever letter of the alphabet she called out. Patrick felt comfortably at ease as the three of them worked together, Shelagh keeping Tim entertained with tidbits about the upcoming fete. He assured her that the Cubs were well prepared for their help with the Pick a Lolly and was delighted to hear that Beat the Goalie had been added as one of the games.

"I can't wait to have a go," he piped up, "and the curate will be more of a challenge as keeper than one of our dads!"

Patrick winced; did Tim really need to draw attention to his advanced age? He consoled himself with the fact that she was polite enough not to laugh.

Instead she smoothed over Tim's dig with her reply, "Your father has other talents; you know he'll be indispensable if anyone needs first aid." She ducked her head and attempted to hide a giggle, but then Timothy joined in and their laughter filled the small room.

The contentment Patrick felt from their sudden outburst was palpable as he watched the joy shared between these two special people, one who had always been so and the other just beginning in her significance to him. Adding to his pleasure was the faint idea that she just might have been teasing him, however subtly it was executed. If only the moment would last and it could always be like this. Lost in his daydream, he was unaware of how much his son was enjoying bantering with Shelagh and was therefore unprepared to recognise the direction in which Tim's next comment was going.

"It's too bad there isn't a talent competition," Timothy chortled, "Dad could sing his new favorite song! It would be awkward though because it's about a doctor; I heard Nurse Trixie tell Nurse Jenny that Dad heard _them_ singing it a few weeks ago!"

"Timothy!" Patrick hissed, but it was too late. He felt the heat rise in his face as he glared at the boy even though he could tell by Tim's countenance it was an innocent mistake. Nevertheless, his foolishness was now known to her and as much as he was loathe to, he slowly shifted his glance from Timothy to her.

Whatever he had expected her response to be, he was startled by what he saw in front of him. She appeared to be frozen in place, the files in her hand halfway to their intended location. She wore an expression of shock and the already pale skin of her face was drained of all color. Abruptly, she dropped the paperwork haphazardly then darted out of his office and down the corridor.

He closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face, cursing himself for his stupidity. Whatever friendship he had managed to build with her these last few weeks as a substitute for what he could never have was certainly lost now. His mind foggy with regret, he could hear Timothy, seemingly in the distance, questioning her sudden departure. Sighing, he realised that as much as he wanted to blame Tim for this situation that would not only be misplaced but would likely do nothing to relieve his own embarrassment. Instead he leaned down to pick up the files she had dropped, but just as quickly he stood up again. Embarrassed - that's what he had expected her reaction to be...or possibly annoyed, at his impropriety. But she had displayed neither of those emotions; what was it her face had reflected...was it fear? Why would she be afraid? Nurse Franklin's words played back in his mind, _"it was Nurse Mannion who chose that particular tune...it seems she has a soft spot for one of the doctors here."_ No, he told himself, that couldn't be possible, the doctor in question was definitely not him. But if there was some small chance that by her expression she had told him he was...well then he had to find out.

"One moment, Tim," he muttered to the already bewildered boy before hurrying to the door and looking wildly left and right. Not seeing any sign of her he moved into the corridor and towards the nurses station where Sister Evangelina was holding court. "Did Nurse Mannion pass by here?" he asked, as casually as he could. When she gestured towards the stairs, he wondered aloud, "Tearoom perhaps?"

"Not the way she was moving," the sister asserted, "I'd say she's halfway across London by now."

Offering no other response than a nod, Patrick dashed back to his office where he grabbed two jackets off of the coat rack. Tossing the smaller one to Timothy, he beckoned the lad to follow him. "We're going after her," he announced.

"Nurse Mannion?" Tim had to jog to keep up with his father's long strides as they moved from the Obstetrics corridor through the doorway to the stairs.

"Of course, Nurse Mannion. Now where could she be?" he mumbled the last part more to himself than Timothy, as they clattered down the multiple flights towards the first floor entrance.

"Probably by the river; she likes to sit there and think."

Patrick paused instantly, in the middle of the reception lobby, and had to reach out to stop Tim as well. "The river? How could you possibly know she would go there?"

"We're friends," Tim said simply, "we talk about things."

"Of course you do," Patrick commended him, "now let's get the car."

Minutes later they were easing out of the car park. Tim expressed concern, "it's a long river, how will be able to find her?"

"There's a road right off of the hospital that leads directly to a nice stretch of the water; let's hope she knows about it." They drove off towards their destination, moving through the darkened streets while looking out for her amongst the few pedestrians along the way.

When they reached the spot Patrick had in mind, he pulled up to the kerb. They could see a lone, small figure seated on the only bench provided. A mist was beginning to come in off of the river, obscuring their view. "I think it's her," breathed Tim, appreciating the solemnity of the moment.

Patrick nodded, "stay in the car, Tim, and keep the doors locked." With that he climbed out of the vehicle and tentatively approached her. She started and looked back as she heard his footsteps behind her. Then, recognising who he was, she stood and faced him as he came round to her side of the bench. She looked so small and he could see that she had been crying; sections of hair had come out of her swept back style and fell carelessly around her face. She kept her gaze toward the ground and he hesitantly reached out his hand, longing to take care of her in some small way. Encouraged that she had neither left nor told him to go, he gently tucked a few of the errant strands behind her ear. Then, being reluctant to take his hand away, he left it where it was. He watched incredibly as she visibly relaxed at his touch; he heard her sigh, then felt her shiver. "You must be freezing," he observed as he removed his coat and placed it around her tiny frame. She slid her arms into the sleeves, her hands lost in the voluminous lengths of fabric. He moved his hands to the front of the coat, doing up two buttons near the top in an effort to further tend to her.

"Thank you," she whispered, still looking in the direction of their shoes. After several moments, she continued, "did you really come to the club that night?"

"Yes," he admitted softly, "you were breathtaking."

She shook her head in denial, "I've had no formal training."

"Not the singing," he clarified, still in a hushed tone. "You."

Finally she lifted her face to look at him and he saw everything he had hoped for in her eyes, exactly what he supposed she could see reflected in his.

"Doctor Tu-"

"Please," he interrupted, cutting across her words, "call me Patrick."

She made a small, surprised noise in her throat before saying it for the first time, "Patrick." Then, seeming to have forgotten whatever she had meant to say, she just continued to look at him and he at her, enjoying this privilege which had previously been unavailable to them. Several minutes later she managed to work her hand out of his coat sleeve to brush away her rapidly drying tears. His hands still lingered inexplicably near the coat buttons he had done up for her and she now placed one small hand on top of his in a gesture that sparked a quiet joy.

"I didn't realise," he breathed.

"Neither did I."

"I'm sorry."

With an almost imperceptible shake of her head she soothed, "there's no need for that now."

The look in her eyes along with the small movement of her thumb over his gave him courage; he knew her given name, but had never used it. He took a deep breath to steady himself, sensing now was the proper time, "Shelagh…" he began, and his voice shook slightly. Almost immediately, a brilliant smile graced her features erasing any question he had ever had. Mirroring her expression he reached out with the hand she wasn't holding and gently brushed her cheek with his thumb. "Shelagh," he repeated, with a small increase of confidence, "may I kiss you?"

She took a deep breath of her own before answering, "Yes." Beaming delightfully, she blushed a bit as her gaze dropped to his mouth before quickly returning to his eyes.

The mist was closing in, but they were too focused on each other to notice. Patrick drew away from her grasp and took her face reverently in his hands. Lowering his head he pressed his lips gently to hers, lingering for as long as he dared. Pulling back, he gazed at her intently; her eyes were still closed, her lips slightly parted and he felt the intimacy of her sigh on his face. Encouraged by her contentment, he leaned in once more, gradually increasing the intensity of his kisses. As she moved closer to him, her eager responses to his attentions thrilled him, even as he reminded himself of the need for propriety. Folding her in his arms, he contented himself with one last kiss, then held her close as the fog surrounded them.

xxxxxxxxxxx

The day of the fete arrived with the blessing of lovely weather, all the more appreciated because as autumn approached it would likely be one of the last fine days of the year. As Shelagh walked into the square, her heart was full of joy with Patrick by her side, his hand holding hers. Timothy strutted alongside them looking smart in his Cubs uniform. As excited as he appeared, he was grumbling just a bit, "I was hoping there would be Welly Wanging this year!"

"Now you know there's not enough room here in the square for that, Tim," his father chided, shaking his head at Tim's exaggerated sigh.

"Patrick," Shelagh implored, "can we take him to a proper village fete sometime, out in the countryside?"

"Absolutely, my love, I'll do whatever it takes to ensure the happiness of the future Mrs Turner," he smiled broadly and raised her hand to his lips. Shelagh giggled and glanced down at her left hand, enjoying how her engagement ring sparkled in the sunshine.

The night he had found her by the river they had stood in each other's arms, unaware of the cold or damp, until an insistent honking alerted them to Timothy's presence in the car. Laughing together, they had returned to an inquisitive Tim. Patrick had patiently answered all of his questions while at the same time being sensitive to any topic that might make her uncomfortable. She had made both of them smile ridiculously when she told him she needed no such protection. Their combined certainty was affirmed two days later when he asked her to marry him and she happily accepted.

Standing now in the midst of the fete, Shelagh felt a sense of belonging she had never known. Looking around her, she saw so many familiar faces united in support of the hospital. The ladies from her church staffed the potted plant stand and the used book stall. Closer to the fountain, Sisters Julienne and Evangelina were using their respective administrative and forthright skills to judge the fruit and veg competition. The nurses were doing their part as previously promised and of course Timothy's Cub pack was assisting in their own small way.

As a newcomer six months ago, the church and the hospital were the two things that grounded her here and gave her a sense of purpose. To see them working together in this way was gratifying. But of course Shelagh knew it was more than that. The connection she finally felt here was because of the people, people she had tried to keep at a distance. How that had become a habit for her she didn't fully understand, and how many others she may have missed getting to know was not what mattered now. All that she had been through before was to prepare her for what she now was able to receive. Once she took that first step toward connecting, her world had gradually unfolded before her and she grew in confidence to the point where she was able to love and be loved. She would not focus on regrets but instead hold fast to the blessings that surrounded her today: her church, her vocation, her newfound friends, the little family she already held dear, and Patrick. He was more than she had ever dared to hope for - kind, compassionate, a brilliant doctor... and he really did make her eyes go _ooh!_

xxx _the end_


End file.
